Alright, so once there was a thing and this thing wanted to do something but it had no idea as to what it wanted to do, but it knew. It knew that there was something out there that it wanted to do and so it was determined to do that thing, so long as it could first work out what that thing was that it wanted to do.
There was of course no telling as to what that thing was that that thing wanted to do, but it knew that it was indeed something and so one day it went out in search of something to do. This was what it considered to be its mission and quest, and so it needed to find a way to get there and do the thing and so on and so forth.
And so it set out, off along the road ahead, looking for something, anything, that would be the thing that would allow it to do something. The thing knew that something just had to be out there and so it knew the path would help get there, or something. It just knew and knowing was part of what it had to contend with in its reckoning of the desire and pathways of which all lay ahead.
However, there was always the possibility that just perhaps there was the chance that the thing the thing wanted to do was the thing the thing was doing in that present moment, which just so happened to involve motion in the forward direction toward some sort of location in which there could be rest acquired, then some other things, then heading off toward another location. This was a possibility that the thing had not considered and perhaps it should have found a way to consider the possibility sooner rather than later, such that it was something of which was yet to be considered and so it remained as such and the thing continued on its journey to wherever it was that it was going in order to work out the thing that the thing wanted to do.
However, of course, in missing out on the realisaition it just kept on journeying. It enjoyed the journey – that much was true – but it knew not what the journey provided and that was the real shame. Eventually the thing returned to its original location and it sat there, trying to work out if anything had gone wrong, and if so, what that thing was, or if it were a series of multiple things that had gone wrong, but of course it was not able to work this out and so it continue on with its life and did other things, trying to work out that one little something it was that it wanted to do, but never quite getting there.
And so it set out on more journeys to work this out, never realising and always trying, believing that eventually it would figure out that something it sought.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 06:12:72
The first thing I feel is apparent is that in slowing down a little the quality of writing improved.
The second thing is that I think this is an exercise in repetition.
Written at home.